Purple Paintbrushes
by Stupid computer
Summary: Human au. Casey Jones is experiencing love at first sight with the new kid in his art class, Donatello. Too bad Donnie is still trying to forget about his. With his family barely making ends meet, only two things make Donnie feel better: Mechanics and art. But mechanics school is expensive and art doesn't pay bills.
1. Chapter 1

**Here I am posting another Jonatello story while I still have other stories to finish. I'm so sorry. This is a human au, you can also find it on my tumblr _totally-not-a-filthy-homestuck_. I hope you enjoy! Read and review!**

To say that Casey was bored out of his mind would be a gross understatement. He was pretty sure he had transcended into an out of body experience that consisted of him reliving the boredom of every person who had ever lived. The clock could not be slower, the room he was in could not be quieter, and he could not be more anxious for the school bell to ring if he tried. The cause of his distress was his last period art class.

It was a known fact that art was the easiest A someone could ever get; if they could stay awake for the class of course. Casey glanced down at his blank piece of paper and then up at the wall clock. There was still twenty minutes left of the school day. Twenty whole minutes of Casey staring at a blank sheet of paper.

'Damn.' Casey thought to himself, 'This _sucks_ so hard. I don't even like art. Better than band class I guess.'

He picked up his pencil and pressed onto his blank paper. The lead immediately snapped.

'Screw this, I hate art. I swear, if I didn't need more credits to play hockey…' Casey's thoughts trailed off as he continued to stare at his piece of paper.

He took out a pocket pencil sharpener and tried to sharpen the broken pencil tip but the lead continued to snap as soon as he pressed it down onto paper. After many frustrated tries, Casey snapped the pencil in half and tried to throw one half of it across the room at Irma. He missed by a foot and ended up hitting the book bag of the kid behind her. He was going to try again with the other half when the class door creaked open.

"Phew, I made it. This room is really hard to find, it took me forever to get here."

Casey thought he was seeing a boredom induced mirage when he looked at the boy standing in the doorway.

The boy was tall and extremely skinny; so much so that his clothes hung off his body like large wet towels. He had bright orange shoes with tape on them, blue jeans with red patches on them, a dark purple shirt with several holes at the hem, and a green tote bag that had safety pins holding together the seams. What really caught Casey's attention was the boy's face.

His eyes, which were probably a red-brown colour under normal light-looked pink under the art room's florescent bulbs. Much like Casey, he had a gap in his teeth. Only his looked natural unlike Casey who just forgot to put his mouth guard on during hockey practice. And the boy's hair, it was dark auburn and stood up all over the place. Looking at the boy's hair, Casey's thoughts went to an image of a mad scientist.

The boy looked so strange that Casey couldn't take his eyes off him. The boy looked like he existed solely to be looked at, that his purpose in life was to make other's notice him and his existence in his strange entirety and Casey was doing just that. He didn't look away until he locked eyes with the boy. Heat spread to Casey's face and he looked down at his paper which mas not smeared with broken pencil lead.

"Class," The art teacher stood from her desk and started talking, "This is our new student, Donatello Hamato-"

"Hamato Donatello, actually. It's Japanese so you would say Hamato first." The new boy, now known to Casey and the rest of the class as Donatello, smiled out to his peers.

His smile quickly faded as snickers filled the room. One kid from the back rolled up his paper and used it as a microphone to shout out'

"Nice outfit, did they have a sale at Good Will or did you put them together from sewer shit?"

Casey didn't turn around to see who had yelled but at that moment he had never wanted to punch someone so badly. The teacher must have felt the same way because she walked over to the kid and slammed an office referral onto his desk.

"Bullying and foul language is not tolerated in my class." She said as she made the kid stand up and marched him out the door. Before she left, she called out over her shoulder.

"Class, I will be back in a moment. Irma will watch you and report to me if anyone misbehaves. Donatello, you can take a seat right next to Jones, he's the one upfront. You can start drawing if you like to but since it is your first day you can just get settled if you wish."

Donatello nodded to the teacher and then started walking towards Casey. Casey's mouth went dry as Donatello took a seat beside him. He watched as Donatello rummaged through his green bag, his tongue stuck out in an almost cartoonish fashion as he shuffled through his things. Soon Donatello pulled out a crumbled piece of notebook paper and a nubby yellow pencil. Casey was still staring as Donatello tried to smooth out his paper and apparently the action didn't go unnoticed.

"Would you stop looking at me?" Donatello hissed without looking up from his paper.

Casey, who had been caught off guard by the sudden comment, said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Uh, I mean, sup? Donatello yeah? I meant, right? I'm, um, Casey Jones. Cool to, you know, meet you or, you know…yeah." For the first time in his life-or at least the first time in a few months-Casey stumbled over his words.

He awkwardly held his hand out and tried to smile cheerfully but, judging by the wary face Donatello gave him, the smile might have come across as psychotic instead. Casey was about to put his hand into his pocket and save himself any more embarrassment when, to his surprise, Donatello reached out and shook it.

"I'm Donnie. Just call me Donnie."

The words nearly flew over Casey's head. He was too distracted by the feeling of Donnie shaking his hand. Donnie's hands were rough and calloused all over and Casey could feel where the skin of his palm cracked. Donnie withdrew his hand after three or four seconds, which was three or four seconds too soon for Casey. He wanted to keep holding his hand, memorizing the cracks and the chapped skin and where the callouses were placed and-

'Whoa, get it together Jones.' Casey told himself.

Casey Jones was not a sentimental person, he didn't get moved by poetry or cry at movies or read Rainbow Rowell novels will drinking green tea. He also wasn't the type of person to lie to himself. There were times where he would see a hot guy walking down the street and he would be just fine thinking to himself that he really wouldn't mind hitting that.

But this was a completely different feeling altogether. And he did not like it.

In an effort to distract himself, Casey glanced over at Irma. She was busy sketching on him paper and telling the kids around her to be quiet. One of the kids tried to snatch her glasses but she elbowed the kid hard in the ribs. Casey laughed out loud and Irma turned her gaze to him. She looked like she was about to get out of her seat and come lecture him but at the last moment she seemed to stop herself. She slouched into her chair, pouted her lips into a kissy face, and winked.

Casey was completely bewildered for a moment. Was Irma flirting with him? Where did that come from? He scrunched his face up in disgust and made a barfing motion at Irma. She rolled her eyes in response and then pointed her finger to the seat next to Casey, the seat that Donnie was sitting at. She repeated to same kissy face while pointing at the seat. Casey promptly gave her the middle finger and looked back down at his desk.

The clock at the front of the room read 3:25.

Casey hadn't realized that time had gone by that fast. He glanced at his still blank sheet of paper. After a few seconds of consideration, he crumbled it up into a ball and tossed it at Irma's head. This time it hit the kid in front of her. With a sigh of frustration, Casey banged his head against his desk.

"Hey! Stop that, you're messing me up!" Donnie said as he tried to erase the stray mark he made on his page with a sun baked eraser.

"Oh, I'm sorry dude, do need to borrow my eras-whoa." Casey's words fell of as he glanced at Donnie's drawing.

Somehow, in only a few minutes, Donnie had managed to draw the most realistic looking cat that Casey had ever seen. Though it didn't really make sense, Donnie's drawing of a cat looked more like a cat than an actual cat did. It was like Donnie took the image of a cat and perfected it; his drawing was what a cat was supposed to be like. Casey had to stop himself from reaching out and petting the paper.

"Dude, how did you draw that? How…what…did you magically trap a cat onto your page while no one was lookin' or somethin'?"

Donnie looked flustered by the compliment and pulled the drawing closer to himself.

"Thanks. My brother likes cats so I practice drawing them."

Casey started to ask about Donnie's brother but before he could the school bell rang. Donnie packed up his stuff and was the first one out of the room. In his rush, Donnie left behind his cat drawing. Casey picked it up, smoothed the edges of the paper, and carefully stuck it in his book bag.

'Yeah Jones, just take the new guy's picture after you stared at him for half the class. Not like that's weird or anything. Four for you Jones.' Casey thought.

He walked out of the class room, sprinted to the school doors, and started his way home. He had only been walking for a minute before Irma came up behind him.

"They're quadruplets you know." She said as she approached.

"What?" Casey gave Irma a confuse look.

"The new guy, Donnie. He and his brothers are quadruplets."

Quadruplets? Casey had a hard time believing that. He doubted that anyone else in the world could look like Donnie.

"They're faternal though."

'Ah-ha.' Casey thought to himself. There really couldn't be anyone who looked like Donnie, he was right.

"One of Donnie's brothers, Mikey, is in my creative writing class. Oh, Casey you should just see him! He's so cute and he has the bluest eyes and his cheeks are so chubby I just want to pinch then!" Irma started to ramble on and Casey took it upon himself to stop her.

"Gee Irma, do you want to date the guy or be his grandma?"

"Like you're one to talk."

Casey gave Irma a mean look and tried to act like he didn't know what she was talking about.

"What do ya' mean by that?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I saw you giving the honeymoon eyes at the new kid. You were all 'Oh be still my beating heart.'" Irma clutched at her chest and swooned.

"Piss off."

Casey tried to shove by Irma but she kept up with him. She chatted about her day while he pretended to hit her with a hockey stick. They had walked about a block when they passed Murakami's restaurant. Casey didn't give to restaurant a glance. He nearly tripped onto the concreate when Irma let out a high pitched squeal.

"Irma, what happened? Do you see a mugger or somethin'?"

"Casey look!" Irma pointed at the dirty glass window of Murakami's.

Behind the glass, standing at the counter in restaurant uniforms, were two guys. One was short and lean with black hair that was dyed blonde ever where but the roots and a chubby face.

The other was Donnie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two, yay!**

"Let's go in!" She exclaimed excitedly.

Casey was much less enthusiastic about the idea.

"How about no. Irma, I just met the guy, like, twenty minutes ago. I can't go barging into the place he works like a freakin' stalker."

He once again tried to walk away but Irma yanked at his hood.

"Come on Casey, don't be such a baby. We've been going to Murakami's for years so it's not like you were purposely trying to follow the new guy. He just happens to work there. And I want to introduce you to Mikey, he's the short guy working with Donnie." Irma glanced into the restaurant at the bleach blond guy, who was now flicking bits of customer's leftovers into the trash can.

Casey caught a glance of Donnie talking to Mikey. His eye brows were knitted and his face pulled in a frown. The skin around his lips creased slightly; Casey wondered if he ever smiled. And what would he look like if he did?

"I'm not goin' in there Irma. I'm not even hungry. Go flirt with Pillsbury dough cheeks or whatever. I'm goin' home."

"Come on Casey. You're such a spoil sport. If you don't come in with me I'm not going to let you copy my physics homework!"

"Hey, that's just playing dirty! And I don't copy your work, I study it…maybe write down a few things here and there." The frames of Irma's glasses bumped Casey's nose as he bent down to get in her face.

"That's called _cheating _Casey. I swear if you don't go into the restaurant with me right now-"

"You'll what? Hit me with a history book?'

"I just might Jones, now come on and-"

"Irma I said no! Just leave me alon-"

"Ehem." A voice broke through Irma's and Casey's argument.

Casey and Irma turned to the door of Murakami's. Donnie was standing there with his arms crossed. The look on his face was far from pleasant.

"Excuse me," He said, "But stop loitering around the store front and yelling. Do you want to eat here or not?"

If embarrassment had a physical form, it would look like Casey. He could feel his face going bright red. Words didn't come to him when he tried to think of an explanation as to why he was standing outside a restaurant and why he didn't want to go into the restaurant. Meanwhile, Irma wasn't so frozen with embarrassment and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Table for two please." She said as sweetly as possible.

When Casey came out of his embarrassed trance, he was being seated on a stool. He gave Irma a death glare. Irma shrugged and picked up a menu. She handed him one and he took it for the sole purpose of hiding his face.

"Hey dudes, what can I get for you? Today's special is…wait…hey you're the girl from my class! Irma right?" The blond boy-Mikey-had walked up to take their orders and had quickly gotten side tracked by Irma.

"Yes, I do believe we have a writing class together." Irma said.

She was trying to hold back a pleased smile at Mikey's excitement to see her. They started talking as if Casey wasn't there. He carefully set down his menu and was planning on escaping while Irma wasn't paying attention. Of course, it was just his luck that Donnie chose that moment to pop up out of nowhere.

"Hello, welcome to Murakami's. The special today is turtle soup with a side of fried rice, what would you like to order?" Donnie's words were rehearsed and stale as he spoke, his voice held no inflection what so ever.

And he was staring right at Casey.

Casey felt an uneasy churning in his stomach. His palms suddenly felt slippery and he was pretty sure that his mouth was open. He took an effort to regain himself and tried to speak in a normal fashion.

"Funny seeing you here man, after art class and all. I wasn't even lookin' for ya' or anything. Total coincidence. Um, yeah, I'll have some rice or something. Heh."

"Anything to drink?"

"Just water. Water sounds fine."

"One bowl of rice and a water coming up." Donnie walked over to the stove and called out for Mr. Murakami to bring some rice to the front.

'I probably sounded like the most boring person in the world to him.' Casey thought as he watched Donnie prepare the food.

Mikey and Irma were still chatting away. Mikey even came around the counter so he could sit with her while they talked. There was no one else in the restaurant for him to wait on so he had to pass the time somehow. Even if it was with someone as, in Casey's opinion, boring as Irma.

Not surprisingly, it didn't take Donnie long to fix Casey his food. He sat it down in front of Casey and gave him both chopsticks and silverware.

"Will there be anything else?" Donnie asked.

"No, this is good." Casey did a victory dance inside his head for not screwing up his words. There was a first time for everything.

Donnie didn't move when Casey spoke. Instead he started messing with the loose strings of his apron. He glanced downward and whispered.

"Did you really think my drawing was good?" He asked almost shyly.

"Yeah dude, I totally did. You're really good. Insanely good. You should be a professional drawing-er or something."

Donnie chucked slightly at Casey's comment.

"You mean artist?"

"Artist. Yes, that's the word. You're good with words too."

Donnie laughed again, a little harder this time, and Casey was happy to see what his face looked like when he was smiling. It was wonderful.

"Thanks. You're a pretty funny guy. Casey right?"

It was hard to tell if Donnie really leaned forward when he spoke or if it was just Casey thinking wishfully. In the dim lights of the restaurant, Donnie's eyes were a deep, dark brownish-red. There was a bit more red than brown though and it made him look wild; it made him look a bit unnatural. Coupled with his hair and his gap mouth, his entire face looked a bit crazy. Wild, unnatural, crazy. Three things that Casey loved.

"That's my name. You might have heard of me. I was the school's best hockey player so I was practically famous."

"Practically famous huh? Wow, I feel so honored. We should make a plaque and hang it at the door: 'Casey Jones, practically famous high school hockey player, ate here'. It can be our selling point." Donnie said the words sarcastically but there was no malice in his voice.

Casey laughed and was prepared to say something smart back but there was a vibration in his pants. His cellphone was ringing. Annoyed, he took it out and looked at it.

"Oh crap, oh crap it's my mom. I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago, she is going to be so pissed. Shit, how much do I owe you?"

"Well," Donnie started, "The water is free and the rice is three-"

"Ok, here just keep the change. I have to go. Irma, I'm leaving and uh," Casey faltered with his words as his pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to Donnie, making their hands touch for the second time that day, "I'll-I'll see you in class."

Donnie stared at Casey as he left and then down at the twenty dollar bill; which was easily the biggest tip he had ever gotten in his life.

Unconsciously, Donnie rubbed the spot where their fingers had brushed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Half from Casey's point of view, half from Donnie's. And even though this is a Jonatello story there will be some past Donnie/Timothy. (Still waiting for Timothy to _not _be a jar or frozen organs btw. Seriously, is The Pulverizer just dead by this point or something?) But I digress. Thanks for all your support on this story! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

The fact that Casey's mom still babied him was ridiculous. He was seventeen for crying out loud, he should be allowed to do whatever he damn well pleased to do with his free time. Of course, if he told his mom that she'd ground him for the rest of his teenage life. Not only was his mom a stickler about curfew, she was also highly against cursing.

_"Only idiots curse and you, Casey Arnold Jones, are not an idiot." _She would say.

She was wrong though. Casey was an idiot, or at least that's what he thought of himself. If he wasn't an idiot he wouldn't have been kicked off the hockey team for low grades and have to take art class to bring up his average. An image of Donnie, baggy jeans and crazy hair, flashed through his mind. So maybe taking art wasn't the worst thing in the world. He still wouldn't be able to play hockey for a while though.

Strangely enough, Casey's mother was much more upset about Casey being kicked off the hockey team than Casey had been. He still remembered her words clear as day:

_"Off the hockey team!? How dare they! To take you-a developing child-away from your passion, forcing you to conform to the social standards of intelligence! And for what? An F in chemistry? I should have homeschooled you. Public school is just another way for the man to brainwash youth like herds of cattle. I will tell you something right now young man, you are not stupid and anyone who says otherwise can go fu-frick themselves. I'm calling the school right now…" _

Telling his mom about being kicked off the team was the only time that Casey had ever seen his mom truly pissed off. She was a flower child through and through, always talking to Casey about taking down 'the man' and not conforming to social standards. Casey though that most of her ideas were pretty out there and he called bull shit when she talked about the government tampering meat with rat poison to deal with over population. But with all of her hippie nonsense she did have a few good points every now and then.

And yet she still made him come home right after school every day.

'So much for empowering today's youth.' Casey thought.

When he got home his mom was waiting for him. She gave him a very stern talking to and almost grounded him. He only managed not to get grounded when he mentioned that he was with Irma. Casey's mom liked Irma and, before Casey made it clear that he was defiantly interested in other guys, she had always joked that they would end up dating. The thought made Casey's skin crawl.

When Casey's mom finished yelling at him, he went to his room. He opened his laptop to play a few games but was instead bombarded with Skype messages. All of them from the same person. Somehow, between flirting with Mikey and eating her meal, Irma had found time to once again ruin Casey's life.

She had told April about Donnie.

April had been Casey's and Irma's best friend two years ago but then she moved to Pennsylvania with her mom and dad. She kept in touch but not that often, she was usually distracted with school, work, and her fancy Japanese transfer student girlfriend who probably had a name but Casey never made an effort to remember it.

Most of April's messages were questions about Donnie. Casey didn't know the answer to a majority of the questions since he had just met the guy that day. Casey closed his laptop and placed it on his nightstand. He felt bad about ignoring April, he really did. He just didn't want to answer any more questions about a boy that he didn't know. They had exchanged maybe twenty or thirty word total.

"Shit April, how the hell am I supposed to know what his favourite bands are or what his favourite colour is. I barely even know his name" Casey said to his closed laptop as if, somehow, April could magically hear him miles away.

Though it was still early Casey's eyelids felt like a ton of bricks and he felt himself drifting off to sleep. Before he did he made a mental note to ask Donnie what his favourite band was next time he saw him in class.

* * *

At 10:30 Donnie and Mikey started closing up Murakami's. Mr. Murakami himself had left a few minutes earlier.

"Have to get home before it gets dark, yeah?" He had joked.

Mikey had nearly busted a gut laughing while Donnie had chuckled politely. Mr. Murakami told them that they could take any leftovers home with them. Too bad all the leftovers from the restaurant were either cold, soggy, or burnt. Despite the less than appetizing state of the food, Donnie and Mikey thanked their boss as he left.

While Donnie stayed mostly quiet, Mikey chatted excitedly as they finished cleaning and tidying.

"Dude, Irma is so cool man. She laughs at all my jokes and she's totally smart. She uses really long words. Seriously long words. She could give you a run for your money D." Mikey said.

Donnie sighed as he went around and picked up silverware and chopsticks from tables. He usually enjoyed Mikey's energy about things, it was Mikey's warm personality that helped the entire family get through hard times. Tonight Donnie just found his brother's babbling annoying. His first day of school had been particularly bad, especially art class.

Donnie knew that his clothes looked like shit, he didn't need some punk kid to tell him that. The entire class would probably try to tear him to pieces each day. Not like that would be anything new. He had hoped that art class would be an escape; Donnie had a bad habit of misplacing his hope. At least the kid next to him seemed alright.

Casey was his name if Donnie recalled correctly.

Earlier that night Casey had dropped by the restaurant; he talked to Donnie a bit and he seemed ok. It was still too early to make judgments though. Donnie didn't want to get overly friendly with the guy, or anybody in his new school. He would just keep to himself, he wouldn't get too close to anyone.

If he just keeps his distance no one will figure out what he had done, what had caused his family to move in the first place. No one will figure out what had happened and Donnie could continue his life and be view by his peers as just another normal bully target. That was the plan.

"Are you even listening to me Don? Don, Donnie, earth to D!" Mikey snapped his fingers in front of Donnie's face to get his attention.

"Sorry," Donnie said, "Just thinking."

"You're always just thinking. You've gotta learn how to _not_ think. Anyways, let's lock up and get home. I'm starving and those leftovers are calling my name."

It took a few minutes to lock up-Mikey had gotten the wrong set of keys-but the two brothers were soon on their way home. They stuffed their uniform aprons in their bags as they walked home. While doing so, Donnie noticed Mikey pull out a slip of paper from his apron's pocket and carefully transferred it into the pocket of his jeans.

"What's that Mikey?" Donnie asked.

Mikey beamed at the question.

"Digits." He said proudly.

"From who? That Irma girl that you met today? She gave you her number already?"

"You bet. She just couldn't resist the M.C Mikey charm."

Donnie didn't want to say it but he was slightly impressed. One day of school and Mikey already had a potential girlfriend. Yet, there in arose a problem…

"Mikey, we don't have a phone." Donnie felt a twinge of guilt as Mikey's face fell slightly but it was the truth.

"Well yeah," Mikey said, "But there's one in the dojo downstairs that dad works at. I was thinking maybe I could sneak in there when his boss isn't looking."

It was a ridiculous plan but the fact that they didn't have a phone was even more ridiculous. Their apartment had an old wall phone landline but it was broken. Not too badly though. Donnie thought for a moment; he remembered reading a book about phones and phone signals and phone parts not too long ago. It couldn't hurt to put that knowledge to work.

"Don't worry Mikey. I'll fix the land line ok? Just don't go sneaking round down stairs, you could get father fired."

"Really? Donnie, you're the best of the best of the best! Woohoo!" Mikey through a fist in the air and Donnie chuckled.

They arrived home not long after their conversation. They lived in a dingy four story apartment building. The ground floor was a small dojo business owned by a very grumpy woman and her husband. Donnie's and his brother's father worked there as an instructor. Needless to say, the pay wasn't good.

As they walked up the stairs, Donnie noticed Mikey throwing quick glances in his direction. Donnie knew his brother well enough to know that he had something he wanted to say but was too afraid to say it.

"What is it Mikey?" Donnie asked as they made it to the top floor.

Donnie pulled his key out and strode over to the door at the end of the hallway.

"Well, it's just…that Casey guy looked kind of cool. And, you know, he seemed kind of into you-"

"No."

Donnie swung the door open more harshly than necessary and through down the leftovers and his bag onto the small table that separated the kitchenette from the tiny living room. On the walk next to the kitchenette there was a cream coloured door-a bedroom-and opposite of that there was a crudely painted black door-a bathroom. Donnie's two other brothers, Leo and Raph, weren't in the living room. He suspected that they were still out. The same verdict was reached for his father too. He made a bee-line for the cream coloured door but Mikey wasn't ready to let the previous conversation drop.

"Donnie, come on. It's been a year. We moved here to help you. Come on bro. Don't you think it's time to move on-?"

"SHUT UP MIKEY! Just, just shut up!" Donnie yelled.

Donnie opened the cream door and then slammed it behind him. The room was small and was packed with four beds. There was barley any room to move. Donnie moved towards the bed with purple sheets and collapsed on top of it. He hated it when he got angry; hated the feeling and the fact that he got angry so suddenly and the fact that he cried when he was angry. He especially hated the fact that he had gotten angry at Mikey.

His brother had only wanted to help, Donnie realized that. That's what all of his family wanted, was to help. That's why they went from being dirt poor in one neighborhood to being dirt poor in another.

Donnie felt hot tears stream down his face. How had such a small comment made him so angry? He was glad that Leo and Raph weren't home. Leo would want to talk about what happened and Raph would try to help which would just end with him getting angry too. It was just two words. Two little words:

Move on.

Why did two little words make him so mad? Why did they make him want to scream and cry his lungs out until he no longer had any air to breath?

Donnie continued to cry. He heard the junky sound of the old television in the living room turn on for a few minutes. Then it turned off and the door opened. Donnie closed his eyes and pretended to sleep as Mikey entered the room. Mikey pulled pajama pants out from under his bed and changed. Donnie thought Mikey was going to go to sleep but then he felt a dip in the side of his small twin bed.

Mikey wrapped his arms around Donnie and tucked his head under Donnie's chin. Mikey was so short, he barley reached past Donnie's shoulders.

"I know you're not asleep bro. You snore really loud when you're asleep." Mikey said. When Donnie didn't respond, he continued talking.

"I'm sorry. I just want to help you Donnie, we all do. But you can take your time ok? Just take your time getting better and we'll wait. I'll be right here alright? For as long as you need me."

Donnie didn't say anything. Instead he wrapped his arms around his brother and fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Starts with some Don/Tim stuff. Enjoy and review please!**

_It was a dream; Donnie knew it was a dream. It was the same dream that he had been having every night for nearly a year. But it was more than just a regular dream, it was also a memory so vivid in his mind that every little detail was still with him even after such a long time._

_ He was in his bedroom; the one that he had just recently moved away from. The outside air was chilled by snow and inside wasn't any better. The heater had broken and the windows wouldn't seal completely shut, but none of that mattered. None of that mattered because Timothy was there._

_ Donnie was sitting in his lap, savoring the warmth that radiated off the larger boy's body and the smell of vanilla ice cream wafted from his skin. Timothy moved his arms around Donnie, wrapping him in an embrace that was soft and warm and powerful._

_ It was a dream, none of it was real. Donnie kept on reminding himself that fact as Timothy's hands made their way to his waist. He knew it was a dream but it all felt so real. Every light touch, every sound, every movement had life. He didn't want it to be a dream. He wanted so desperately for it to be real._

_ Donnie took a sharp intake of breath as Timothy kissed at his jawline. The air of intimacy had suddenly grown heavier. The heat of Timothy's touch and the coldness of the outside world engulfed Donnie and he gave in. He tilted back his head, wrapped his arms around Timothy, felt the small amounts of muscle wrapped in a large layer of weight._

_ Everything was a memory just as much as it was a dream. Donnie had kept the memory of that night; the rush, the thrill, the never ending buzz of his first time. He wanted to stay in that moment, he wanted to loose himself again just as he had that night; feeling the touch of another person against his own skin._

_ A hand slipped up Donnie's shirt and started to rub soft circles on the small of his back. There was nipping at his neck and a second hand was resting on his thigh. _

_ 'Please.' He thought, 'Let me stay. Just this one time, let me stay here. I'll do anything, anything. Just let me live this one moment.'_

_ He didn't know who he was begging; his own mind or another entity that could possibly control what happened while people slept._

_ Donnie felt a hot sensation growing in his belly as the hand on his thigh moved upwards, giving gentle squeezes as it did so. The soft kisses had stopped and all Donnie was left with was Timothy's face, eyes alight and face widened with his signature goofy smile. _

_ "I love you, Don."_

_ Those words were the trigger._

_It was only a dream and Donnie had the dream enough times to know what was about to happen. His mind sat still, hoping beyond hope that this time would be different, this would be the one time that things went differently. He didn't hope hard enough._

_ Soon the sound of wailing sirens filled his ears. His vison turned watery; flashes of blue and red blinded him. The image of the dream changed to nothing but everlasting white, all while the sirens grew louder and louder and louder until Donnie felt his ears bleeding. He didn't wake up until the sour taste of vomit filled his throat._

Donnie woke with a bitter taste in his mouth. His saliva was thick and slimy. Careful not to wake Mikey, he got up from his bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He locked the bathroom door, got out his purple tooth brush, reached into the small bathroom cabinet, and pulled out a small box of baking soda. He wet his brush and sprinkled a bit of the baking soda on top, carefully making sure not to use too much.

After a minute he spat into the sink and looked up into the broken in front of him. The face that looked back was gaunt; nothing but hallow cheeks and freakish eyes that sank back slightly. The angles of his face were sharp, much sharper than they had once been. Instinctively, Donnie moved his hand to his stomach and was greeted by the dull hardness of rib bones.

"I'm not going to think about it. I'm not." Donnie said out loud to himself.

Still, images flashed through his mind from a year ago. It was a time where he had a fuller face, a good amount of muscle, and his skin didn't look like it was haphazardly paper mached together. But that was who he was last year. Now he was a rag doll; loose ends fraying at the seams.

There was a knock at the bathroom door which forced Donnie's attention away from the mirror.

"Donnie? Donnie are you in there? Why'd you lock the door? Are you ok?!"

Donnie could tell that Leo was trying to keep his voice level and calm but the wavering tone of his voice gave him away. Donnie unlocked the bathroom door and Leo nearly came bursting in.

"Why did you lock the door? You know that scares me." Leo accused.

"I was just brushing my teeth Leo."

Leo's face visibly relaxed. Donnie shoved passed him to get out the door way. As he did so, Leo grabbed his arm.

"Don't lock the door again. Please?"

There wasn't an audible response, Donnie just slumped slightly and nodded he head before retreating to the bedroom. Raph was just getting up and Mikey was still asleep. Raph and Donnie exchanged a quick 'good morning' before getting ready for the day.

It wasn't hard picking out an outfit each day. Donnie had all of two pairs of jeans and three shirts. After a bit of thought he decided to wear the jeans that he had worn the day before. There was no use dirtying up more than needed be; who knew when they would be able to do laundry. He slipped on a different shirt though; a black one with purposely placed splatters of red on in. It had been a gift from Raph, who thought that Donnie had too much purple in his wardrobe. That wasn't the case anymore, seeing how all his old clothes were much too big for him to wear now.

"Looks like we're matching today, Braniac." Raph said as he slipped out a red shirt with a small rip in the neck line.

"Dude, can you keep it down. 'M trying to sleep here."

Mikey rolled around in Donnie's bed, picked up a spare pillow, and chucked it at Raph's face. Raph dodged it easily. A second later the same pillow was crashing down on Mikey's head with more force than was necessary.

"Rise and shine dumb ass, time to get ready for school." Raph said as he hauled Mikey up from Donnie's bed.

Mikey wobbled on his feet for a moment and the walked over to the small closet on the other side of the room to get his clothes.

"I'm not dumb." He said in a sleepy tone.

Raph scoffed and then headed out the door, leaving only Donnie and Mikey in the room.

"So," Mikey started, "How'd you sleep?"

'Horribly.' Donnie thought to himself.

Out loud he said, "Alright I guess. Would have slept better if _someone _hadn't put their foot in my stomach."

In reality, Mikey was actually a very peaceful sleeper. He didn't usually kick around while he slept. But the comment made Mikey laugh and that brought a smile to Donnie's face.

"And I would probably sleep better if your snoring didn't sound like a jet engine. Come on dude, you know my bro cuddles are the best. Don't lie! Plus, I had the best dream ever. We were all hanging out and there was mountains of pizza everywhere. Jelly bean, pepperoni, and hot sauce."

Donnie smiled and ruffled his brother's bed head hair.

"What, no chocolate bits and syrup?" He asked.

"I'm saving that for the next dream. Man, it's been forever since we've had pizza." Mikey said longingly.

There was a brief moment of realization that passed over Mikey's face after he said the comment. The fact that they couldn't even order a pizza was a hard reality to live by. Mikey finished getting dressed and told Donnie that he'd meet him in the kitchen for breakfast in a minute.

Breakfast that morning was half a bowl of oatmeal and the untouched leftovers from the night before. Donnie managed to finish his food in a few bites, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Leo and Raph who were also finishing up their food.

"Bleh, this tastes like shit Leo. Here Donnie, you can eat the rest of this poison. There's no way I'd ever take another bite of that." Raph said.

He shoved his bowl to Donnie and tried not to look him in the eyes. Donnie knew what his brother was doing; Raph was very transparent when it came to his emotions. Often when he said one thing he meant another.

"Raph, I don't want your food. And if it tastes like shit then why are you giving it to me?" Donnie pushed the bowl back to Raph, who did not seem to appreciate the action. With more force than before, Raph shoved to bowl into Donnie's hands.

"Just eat the damn food Donnie."

"I said that I don't want it. I'm not going to take your food."

Raph glared at Donnie. Their eyes were locked in a stand still.

"Fine, starve some more. See if I give a fuck." Raph said.

He stood up, grabbed his book bag that had been hanging off the back of his chair, and left, making sure that the door slammed behind him.

"He was only trying to be nice Donnie. You know you need to get your weight up." Leo scowled.

Donnie didn't respond but he did eat the rest of Raph's oatmeal. He grabbed his bag after he finished and walked out the door.

"Tell Mikey I left early." He called back to Leo.

Outside of the apartment building the sky was grey and the air was heavy. Donnie walk by himself to school, thoughts of last night's dream still clouding his thoughts. He knew what happened after the dream scene; the memory that had happened in real life.

What had really happened that night wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

* * *

Casey was surprised to see Donnie in the art class room that day. He had almost convinced himself that the strange boy had been a dream.

"Hey Donnie, weird to see you back here. Thought one day in this hell hole would be enough to make ya skip town." Casey said as he sat down.

"I would have but the bus fare was too much." Donnie responded.

It was hard to tell if Donnie was joking or being serious about his comment. Casey wanted to continue the conversation beyond just a few words but the teacher decided to start talking.

"Class, today I want you all to listen to music. Take out your iPods and mp3 players and phones. I know it's a bit of an odd request but music is art. Listen to music and imagine the sounds as colours, flow with the beat, and turn sound into vision!"

Casey, along with the rest of the class, excitedly got out head phones and earbuds. He pulled out his iPod and plugged in his yellow earbuds that April had sent him for his birthday a while back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Donnie looking around nervously before pulling a device out of his bag. It was chunky and rectangular and made from cheap plastic. On the side, there was a faded letter **T **followed by other letters that had been scratched out.

"Dude is that…is that a _Walkman?_ Like an actual honest to god Walkman? I didn't even know those things still existed outside of indie hipster movies and thrift stores."

The colour of Donnie's face paled a bit and then flushed, most likely from embarrassment. He plugged in a pair of earbuds and put the Walkman in his pocket.

'Shit, wrong thing to say.' Casey thought.

"I mean, it's pretty cool that you have one. The thing's like a relic, where do ya even find tapes for it anymore?"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say as well because after he said it Donnie's face darkened to a grimace.

"It was a gift from my bo-I mean friend. It was a gift from a friend." Donnie said before putting his earbuds in and blocking Casey out.

The entire class period was spent in silence; students were too distracted by their music to talk. Throughout the period, Casey's paper stayed blank. He would shoot glances at Donnie's work. The drawing looked a bit like a machine, with gears and springs sticking out. But it was swirled too in hypnotic patterns. The colours were different shades of purple and pink and blue. Something about the drawing reminded Casey of a violin.

Everyone turned in their drawings at the end of class. The teacher let out a little 'hum' sound at most of the drawings. Her eyes lit up when she saw what Donnie had drawn.

"Donatello this is fantastic! The colours, the contrast, the contour! Simply beautiful!" She exclaimed loudly.

Donnie awkwardly took her praise and shuffled out the class room as quickly as possible. Casey ran to catch up to him before he left.

"Hey! Donnie, wait up a man." Casey called out.

He half expected Donnie to keep walking but to his surprise, the boy actually stopped and waited in the hallway for a moment.

"What is it? Did I leave something behind again?" Donnie checked his pockets and bag for any signs that something was missing.

"Nah, it's not that." Casey said, "You're new around here right?"

"Well the thing is, when people move to a_ new_ place into a _new _apartment and go to a _new_ school that usually means they're new."

"Dial back the sass, I'm tryin' to do something nice for ya'. It was a rhetorical question anyway."

"Didn't sound like one." Donnie crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm going to ignore you for a moment for the greater good of this conversation-"

"We can't have a conversation if you ignore me."

"Since I'm officially ignoring you, I didn't hear you say that. Like I was saying, you're new here and I was thinkin' that I could show you around some, ya' know? Get you acquainted with the city and everything. Casey Jones is a master tour guide after all."

A knot in Casey's stomach started to form and swell as he sped through his words. He didn't know why, he was just offering to show the new kid around. That wasn't bad, right? Just showing someone around in a perfectly platonic way. He was definitely not asking a guy he didn't even know out on a date.

"You want to show me around?" Donnie asked.

"Yeah man, or we could just hang out. New students get treated like shit around here, you could use a friend or somethin'." Casey dug his hands into his pockets and tried not to look at the ground.

He looked at Donnie's face and tried to gauge what he was thinking. Donnie's eyebrows knitted together. He looked like he was thinking hard about what to say.

"Look man," Casey said, "If you don't want to that's fine. I get it, a dude you just met wants to hang out and be friends. I'd be kind of unsure out too. Like, I'd probably be all 'Why the fuck is this guy talking to me?' But that's jus-"

"Do you have any money?" Donnie interrupted.

"Uh," Casey felt around in his pockets and his fingers brushed over the money his mom had given him for allowance, "Yeah, why."

"Let's get something to eat."

"Um, ok then. Do you wanna get a burger or some tacos? There's this really great place not too far from-"

"Pizza. Where's the best way to get pizza around here?"

Donnie's face was lit up with excitement and Casey's stomach did a small flip at the sight.

"There's one down the street. It's kind of a joint pizza-ice cream place."

The smile that Donnie had been sporting nearly doubled in size.

"Perfect, let's go!"

Donnie nearly ran for the school's exit and Casey had to jog to keep up. Once outside, Casey walked slightly ahead of Donnie, since he was leading the way. He didn't want the walk or meal to be covered in silence, so he tried to stir up another conversation.

"Sorry about calling you out on your Walkman. It actually is pretty cool though. Where did your friend even find that thing?"

Casey worried that he had said the wrong thing yet again when he noticed how Donnie's smile faded. He looked down at his shoes for a moment, lost in thought.

"My, uh, friend really liked vintage stuff. He used to collect old comic books and stuff like that so he always had a bunch of old eighties and nineties junk cluttering up his room. He gave me the Walkman for va…ahh…um…my birthday. He gave it to me for my birthday. He made me mix tapes too." Donnie sheepishly glanced around as he stumbled over his words. Casey didn't think much of it, he had been stumbling over his words too just a few minutes ago.

"This guy gave you a Walkman and made you mixed tapes? Was he technologically impaired or did he build a time machine and pop out from the seventies?"

It was a relief to hear Donnie laugh at the joke. He had a weird giggle-snort kind of laugh that Casey usually found annoying. But it worked with Donnie, no one else on earth could make a laugh like that sound so naturally perfect.

"A little bit of both I think? Yeah, definitely a little bit of both. He was really nostalgic. And kind of an idiot." The way Donnie said 'idiot' made it seem like that words was the highest compliment in the world; or at least the highest compliment someone could get from a guy like Donnie.

"So what kind of mix-tapes did ya' get? Any kind of favourites or anythin'?

"Not really. There's some Beastie Boys on the tapes, a few indie songs. There aren't a lot of songs I like on the tapes. I kind of prefer techno pop to classics."

Casey made a mental note of what Donnie said.

'Techno, he likes techno.' Casey thought to himself.

He was so distracted by talking to Donnie that almost walked passed the large sign that read '**Antonio's Pizza and Ice Cream**'. Luckily he noticed the sign before it became evident that he was paying too much attention to Donnie's words. He led Donnie into the restaurant and they were seated across from each other at a booth.

"I'm not really that picky so you can just get whatever." Casey said.

The mischievously gleeful look on Donnie's face told Casey that he would probably regret that decision.

**Donnie is listening to this song while he's drawing: watch?v=75kJb_aAvKY**

**Go listen to that song. Do it.**


End file.
